Journey of Fear
by Cable Car Chronicles
Summary: A prisoner escort assignment goes terribly wrong for Mike and Steve. Stranded after being overpowered while in transit, can the detectives turn the tables on the armed and desperate criminals who want nothing more than to see them dead? * COMPLETED *
1. Prologue

_**Author's Note: **Inspired by the "Trail of Terror" episode and a suggestion made by "little purple butterflies", this is the inaugural work of a new round robin group of SOSF writers. Special thanks goes to honu59 for her assistance in preparing the image used for the cover of this story.  
_

_Disclaimer: Ladies and gentlemen, this is your friendly San Francisco Cable Car operator welcoming you all aboard! Please note that we do not own any of the original characters, locations or canon information depicted in the series "The Streets of San Francisco". We are merely borrowing them for our tale and shall return them to their rightful owners upon reaching our destination. So sit back, hold on tightly to your belongings and enjoy the ride..._

* * *

**Journey of Fear**

_Written by meixel, Shergar, jodm, little purple butterflies, Tanith2011 & Autumnrose_**  
**

_**Prologue**_

What was supposed to be a routine prisoner transportation drive was turning into a trail of terror for the two SFPD detectives who stood side by side facing two hardened criminals and a juvenile delinquent. A fourth accomplice, driver Ruben Palmer, hurriedly but thoroughly frisked the cops and took away their guns and handcuffs.

Holding his arms up with his elbows bent, the young Inspector avoided eye contact with the men in front of him for he knew that would just antagonize them further.

"You're making a big mistake," Lieutenant Mike Stone remarked in a serious tone, trying to diffuse the situation.

"Listen, old man. From now on, you speak only when you're spoken to, you got that?" The armed criminal snapped, raising his rifle in a threatening manner.

Steve couldn't help but roll his eyes and shake his head in anger and frustration, earning him the attention of the gunman.

"That goes for you too, pretty boy," the gunman snarled, stepping right up to stand inches from the Inspector's face.

Mike hoped that his young partner would keep silent and cooperate with the men holding them at gun point. While he knew Steve was, for the most part, a level headed young man, he couldn't stop worrying about him.

Biting his tongue, Steve simply glared at the man threatening him. Suddenly he felt rough hands grip his wrists and twist them behind his back. He suppressed a wince from the discomfort.

"No, no. Cuff them together," the gunman ordered his accomplice.

Steve felt one of his wrists released while the other was brought back down and cuffed to his partner's wrist.

"Alright, you're both coming with us," the criminal sneered, waving the rifle he had taken from the younger detective.

"Now, wait a minute! You got what you wanted. Why don't you just…" Steve protested. His protest only earned him a punch to his kidney. With a grunt of pain, he folded over but fought to stay on his feet.

"Did I say you could talk, cop?" the gunman spat, heatedly.

Steve slowly straightened and met his tormentor's glare but remained silent for Mike's sake. He could feel his partner's worried gaze boring into him.

"Let's go!" the gun man commanded.


	2. Chapter 1

**_Author's Note:_ **_We would like to send a BIG thank you to all our readers and to those who had the time to post a review on our opening chapter._

* * *

_**Chapter 1**_

The back of the prisoner transport was not the most comfortable place, but at least it allowed them to talk. "Are you all right, buddy boy?" Mike asked, looking at Steve worriedly.

"I'm fine," Steve assured him, even though his back ached badly. "Mike, how are we going to get out of this?"

"Right now, I don't know," Mike replied, sighing. "They won't get far once the authorities are alerted that we didn't reach the prison."

"But when will that be?" Steve asked. His watch had been taken along with his wallet.

"It has to be soon," Mike speculated. "We weren't all that far away when Palmer stopped the truck after Henderson told us through the rear cab window that one of the prisoners had thrown up."

"Henderson. I should never have believed him," Steve apologised. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't be sorry," Mike soothed. "You couldn't know that he was only attempting to trick us. Would you really have condemned them to another half hour or more stuck in here if one of them had been sick?"

"I guess not," Steve agreed, but he was still sorry that he had opened the door and found himself facing the large, muscular Buster Henderson.

"Shut up in there!" Henderson ordered as the truck quickly came to a halt. Seconds later, the rear door opened and the criminal climbed in beside them.

"If I want to hear pigs grunting I'll go to a farm." He jabbed Steve in the side with the rifle he was carrying. When Steve refused to voice any sound, the convict did it again, harder. This time, Steve could not contain a grunt. Henderson looked pleased with that and even more pleased with the anxious look Mike gave Steve. "Listen up!" the big convict ordered. "We're gonna stop in a bit and you're gonna phone in our demands."

"Let me guess," Steve retorted sarcastically. "A plane to Mexico and $10,000?"

That was a mistake.

Mike Stone gave a sharp tug to his partner's handcuffed wrist as a signal for him to be quiet, but his effort was too late to do any good.

Reacting quickly, the senior detective narrowly missed the butt of Henderson's rifle. Instead, Henderson followed through to his original target and slammed his weapon into the left side of Steve's head.

The action happened so quickly that the young inspector initially felt more numbness than pain. Slowly, an emerging ache spread from his jaw across his ear and then to the back of his head. Within seconds an intense piercing pain threatened to overtake his composure. It took every ounce of his strength to hold himself together, not only in front of the muscle bound convict but in front of his partner.

"Old man, you keep this one reeled in," the muscle-bound convict ordered. "It's either that or you'll be dragging around a corpse. Got me?"

Mike responded only with a steely glare.

Henderson glanced back to Steve who was holding his breath trying to control the pain. Not able to resist further provoking the detective, he used his rifle as a prod and gave a quick jab into the young man's abdomen as he exited the back of the transport vehicle.

Steve remained quiet, which belied the anger he felt. Not only was he hurting, but he was still irritated with himself for his part in their predicament.

"Steve," Mike whispered. "You okay?"

Steve let out his breath and then slowly drew in another. Mike shot another worrisome look at the young man. He caught sight of the blood trickling from Steve's ear and a slight swelling to his jaw_. A ruptured ear drum?_ Mike kept the thought to himself.

"We have to get out of here," Mike whispered. With Steve showing no reaction to what he said, Mike shook Steve's forearm to get his attention.

"What?" Steve asked.

"I said, we have to get out of here," Mike whispered to make sure that Henderson could not overhear. "I think we can open the door and jump out when they slow down."

An expression of confusion passed over Steve's face. He lifted his hand to press against the pain in his ear. "I can barely hear you. Sorry."

Mike understood and then tried to communicate with new resolve. He pointed to the door, made a gesture to open it and wiggled two fingers until they executed a simple jump.

With a slight smirk, Steve understood and nodded his head.

Reassured that his partner got it now, Mike shifted his attention back to the doors leading to freedom. Their escape would hinge on getting them to open. The senior cop fervently hoped that Henderson had only shut the doors but forgot to lock it as well. Reaching out for the handle a couple of inches away from where he was sitting, he carefully tried to get it to move. It budged and he gave a sigh of relief.

Now he could tackle problem number two.

Since their sight was blocked by the metal walls on all sides, they didn't know when the chance to jump would present itself, much less where they would end up when it did.

Mike tried to listen to the noises the wheels made on the ground, his only indication to what material it was made of. He identified it to be some sort of gravel, though he couldn't be sure since he could barely hear anything over the roaring engine. The noise gave way to silence, leaving only the shakes the van gave due to bumps on the ground to tell that they had left a proper road which would make it much harder to get to safety, especially with Steve in his injured state. Not that they could do anything about it.

Turning his head to check on his partner, Mike was glad to see Steve looking back at him, just waiting for a signal.

Steve couldn't help a gasp escaping his mouth when the van hit a particularly deep hole in the road, as much as he tried to prevent it for his partner's sake.

He could see the unmistakable signs of worry on the older detective's face, the way his eyebrows were drawn down just a tiny bit. And he saw determination to get them out of their current predicament there as well. But for now all they could do was to simply wait.

Their chance came sooner than expected when the van slowed considerably before taking a sharp left turn. Mike shot up, thereby taking the younger man with him through their linked wrists, and his free hand grabbed the door's handle. With a final nod at Steve to his right, he pulled at it and pushing the doors open they jumped simultaneously.


	3. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note: **Another big thank you goes to our readers and reviewers.  
_

* * *

**Chapter 2**

When his feet touched the ground, which looked to be an old worn-out service road Mike caught sight of his partner landing barely on his feet. The ear injury was clearly affecting his balance but he managed to stay upright.

Giving Steve a moment to regain his footing, Mike took a quick look around, trying to orientate himself. All he saw were trees and thick bushes. Being in a forest didn't really make it easy to get back to civilization fast, but it at least helped them to take cover quickly and, given the chance, maybe put some distance between them and the armed criminals.

Mike gently tugged at the handcuffs to get Steve's attention and waited for the other man's gaze to meet his. "That way," he said with a jerk of his head toward some big bushes to their left making sure to speak slowly so that, even if Steve didn't hear him, he at least could read lips.

Ducking their heads the detectives ran to the temporary safety of cover. And not too soon, because just then the screeching of the van's brakes could be heard, alerting them to the fact that their escape had already been discovered.

Dizzy as he was from Henderson's blow, Steve still had the presence of mind to push his partner down a nearly invisible path leading deep into the heavy woodlands. At least the tangled growth of madrone, vine maples, bay laurels, and twisted thimbleberry vines would give them some cover. The two officers remained silent and motionless as heavy footsteps wandered past their hiding place.

* * *

"They couldn't have gotten too far," an angry Henderson muttered to his companions.

"Why not just leave them here? These service roads circle around for miles," Palmer suggested. "You got any idea where this one leads to?"

Henderson responded, "Comes out on the back side of an old campground by Alpine Lake. I figure we can hole up there for a couple of days once we get those cops. We're only a couple of miles in from Fairfax. Ya don't want them finding their way out and calling the local police, do you? Ya know where that'll put us!"

"Back in San Quentin," Lawson sneered.

"Ya got that right, pal! So keep looking. I'm not leaving any witnesses—or live cops!" commanded Henderson. "Let's not give those pigs any chances of getting away to squeal on us. Split up!"

* * *

Mike quietly fumbled in his pocket with his free hand, breathing a sigh of relief as he pulled out the key to the cuffs that bound them together. He quickly released the restraints and rubbed his wrist as he whispered slowly enough for Steve to read his lips, "You know where we are?"

"Marin Water District lands, just west of the highway."

"You sure?"

"Couple of my friends and I used to hike here when we were in college." Keller tried to stand. "We can't stay here and we can't go back. I remember there was an old cabin a mile or so down this trail. Don't know if anyone's living there." The young cop swayed as a wave of dizziness left him mildly disoriented.

Mike steadied his partner and the two men moved down the trail, taking care to avoid the thorny thimbleberry vines snaking on to the path. He noted Steve's painful movements and wondered what other injuries he might have sustained. They'd need to wait until they reached the possible safety of the cabin for him to find out just how badly his friend had been hurt.

The sound of barking warned the officers they were not alone. They moved off the path, hoping to avoid being seen. "Lots of dogs run these hills," Keller muttered as the barking receded into the distance. "Let's go. The cabin's just ahead." He closed his eyes as another wave of dizziness passed over him. "Need to sit down."

Mike put a supporting arm around his shoulder as they approached the ramshackle building. He hoped it was uninhabited. It wasn't.

A voice greeted them. "Peace and love, brothers."

The figure standing at the door examined the two men carefully. _Definitely not dressed for an afternoon hike_. The man surmised there was something amiss. "We have company, sisters," he said as he looked back into the cabin.

Two young women who also occupied the cabin quickly stashed away what they were working on. The brunette lit a stick of incense to hide the sweet smell that had already permeated the air.

"Do you have a phone we could use?" Mike asked earnestly as he and Steve neared the door.

"No phone, no electricity and no running water here. We're one with the earth, brother," the hippie said as he raised his hands. He was nearly fifty with long, graying hair and wire rimmed glasses.

"I'm Lieutenant Mike Stone," Mike began.

"The fuzz. I could tell," Doug interrupted. "I'm Doug Nelson."

Mike pursed his lips, but then continued. "There is danger in the area. Three convicts, who were on their way to San Quentin, are loose. There's a fourth man involved who is also armed and dangerous. You must evacuate immediately."

"Where's your badge, man?" Nelson inquired.

Mike thought back to the moment when his badge was taken. "A driver, my partner and I were transporting the prisoners when one of the convicts claimed he was getting sick. We pulled over to check the prisoner's condition. As my partner here opened the door, the driver pulled his pistol on us."

"The driver was in on it with the cons?" Doug asked.

"That became obvious to us at that very moment," Mike replied dryly. "The four took our guns, badges and ID. We managed to escape back up on the main road," Mike explained.

"Heavy," Doug remarked, but then realized he wanted no part of the situation. "Look, man, this place belongs to my chicks and me. We mean no harm and expect the same in return."

The fact that Steve was hearing nothing more than a profound ringing in his ears meant that the he understood none of the dialogue between his partner and Nelson. Nevertheless, by observing the two men, he could tell that Mike had explained their situation, but the response was not productive.

Suddenly quite pale, Steve began to speak as he leaned against the door frame. ""I'm sorry, sir, one of the convicts slammed the back end of a rifle into the side of my head and I can't hear a thing right now." He raised his hand to his ear and tried to press the pain away.

His opening statement drew the attention of the two young women in the cabin. The ladies noticed the cop was not steady as he stood. Dressed in beige caftans, headbands and colorful beads, they seemed to float as they made their way to the door to join in the conversation.

The blonde was first to speak. "You poor thing. You're bleeding! Please come in." She held her hand out to Keller as a signal for him to enter.

Mike shot a quick glance to his partner as the younger man took her hand and walked through the front door. She led him to a chair to sit down. "May I get you some water?"

"Sorry?" he answered. She turned and walked over to a table, picked up a canteen and held it up. `Water', she mouthed.

"Yes, please," he answered.

Following the young woman to the table, he took a moment to assess his partner. He knew the pair could not stay, but also realized that Steve was unwell. He found a pad of paper and pencil and began writing. As Steve finished drinking from the canteen, Mike handed him the note.

_What's wrong with you? Busted eardrum?_

Steve read the message, but could only slightly nod his head.

_Can't hear? Are you dizzy?_

In a voice that was somewhat elevated, Steve responded, "Yes to both. There's a loud ringing sound. Sometimes things start spinning. That's when I lose my balance."

_You should stay here. I'll go get help._

"No, you shouldn't be out there alone. I can make it."

_You are going to fall on your face. No reason for you to go._

"I know the area," Steve defended as he took another sip of water. "Besides, I'm feeling a bit better now. I just needed a break."

Mike frowned at his partner, but knew that Steve's knowledge of the hiking trails would be valuable.

"Besides, if…" Steve began as he saw Mike sharply turn his head toward the door.

"The dogs are barking again," Mike said aloud as he walked over to the front window of the cabin. Spotting the renegade driver of the police van, Mike said in a low, but forceful voice, "Get down everyone and be quiet." He glanced at his partner who by now was quietly walking over to the window.


	4. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3**_

"He's alone," Steve angrily observed. If only they could get their hands on Palmer and, moreover, his weapon, they might stand a chance of surviving this ordeal.

Noticing that Steve was eager to take out Officer Ruben Palmer, Mike took a firm hold of the young man's arm, drawing his attention and shook his head. "Don't even think about. You just sit tight, Buddy Boy and let me handle it." Mike used hand gestures to get his message across to Steve who looked frustrated and crestfallen.

"I might not be able to hear real good right now, but I'm not completely useless," Steve replied in a louder voice than he intended.

Mike motioned for Steve to keep quiet then pulled his partner by the arm to one corner of the room. "Stay there. Do not move, you got that?" He mouthed, locking eyes with Steve who sighed heavily then nodded in defeat.

Doug Nelson, who had been curiously watching the exchange, now looked a little uneasy as he too cast his eyes out through the window and saw a man in uniform heading toward the cabin. "Look, man, we don't want any part of your troubles."

"Doug, I understand but regardless whether or not you help us, trouble is on its way to your doorstep. If you do help us then I promise you we'll be on our way just as soon as we take that man out. _Please_, help us," Mike negotiated, hoping to win the hippie's cooperation.

Doug sighed and remained silent. The young blonde woman who had been eyeing Steve with concern stepped up to Doug's side and held his hand. "Let's help them," she whispered.

Doug looked at his companion then back at Mike. He nodded reluctantly as confirmation that they would help their guests just as a knock on the door sounded.

"When I give the word, open the door and invite him in," Mike quietly relayed his instructions then stood to one side of the door so that when it opened he would be behind it.

The two young ladies stood to one side of the room, with the intention of blocking Steve from view when the stranger at the door walked in.

Doug carefully opened the door and greeted the lawman standing on the doorstep. "Peace and love brother. What brings you to our humble home?"

"Say, have you seen two men walking around? The younger one is about my height and the other is taller and older?" Palmer questioned in a casual manner, all the while his eyes tried to take in the interior of the cabin from where he stood.

"No, but perhaps Wanda or Leah may have seen them. Please come in," Doug invited the stranger nervously into his home.

Palmer stepped inside and took off his cap. His eyes found two young ladies standing side by side smiling at him flirtatiously.

The distraction that Wanda and Leah provided gave Mike the opportunity he needed. As soon as Doug closed the door behind Palmer, Mike tackled the cop to the ground.

Not wanting to be a part of the violent struggle, Doug quickly made his way over to the girls and wrapped his arms around them. Steve, on the other hand, moved away from corner and rushed to help his partner who had just received a sharp elbow jab to the chin.

Palmer scrambled to his feet and reached for his revolver when another body crashed into him, sending them both sprawling into the wooden table.

Mike straightened up, rubbed his aching chin then sought his partner amid the upended furniture. To his horror he saw Steve trying to detangle himself from the table and a chair, while his adversary drew out his pistol.

"Steve!" Mike's shout may as well have been a whisper to Steve's ears as the young man's eyes zeroed in on the barrel of a .38 caliber weapon aimed straight at him.

"Don't move, old man," Palmer warned. "Or I'll blow a hole in your boy here."

Furious and fearful for his partner's safety, Mike froze where he was. Steve, still very dizzy from his fall, stopped trying to scramble to his feet and looked down the gun barrel that was only inches from his face.

Palmer clicked the safety off.


	5. Chapter 4

_**Author's Note: **Many thanks goes to all those who have been following our story :-)  
_

* * *

_**Chapter 4**_

"All right." Palmer was still breathing heavily from the fight, but he felt like he was in control again. "You – hippie – you got any rope around here?"

"No," Doug replied uncertainly. When Palmer pushed the gun against Steve's head, he changed his mind. "We got some rope we use to hang up clothes."

"Get it," Palmer ordered. "And don't think about trying to double cross me. If I have to shoot this guy, you three are next." The girls huddled together and Wanda began to cry. Palmer's eyes cut back to Mike. "Have you still got those cuffs?" he asked. When Mike hesitated, Palmer jabbed the gun against Steve as a reminder.

"Yes," Mike replied, wishing he had dumped them. Habit had made him put them in the pocket of his raincoat.

"Get them out and put them on," Palmer ordered. "Hands behind you."

Slowly, Mike did as he was told. The click of the cuffs closing sounded like a death knell to him. Steve had his eyes closed, and he was as pale as Mike had ever seen him. He willed Steve to look at him. Finally his partner's eyes opened and he looked his way.

Doug returned from the back of the room with a long length of rough hemp. Palmer ordered him to cut it into shorter lengths, then tie the girls to chairs. Once that was done, he made Doug tie Steve's hands, watching closely to make sure it was done to his satisfaction. As soon as the younger cop was immobilized, he clicked the safety back on and hit Doug over the head with his weapon. Doug crumpled silently to the floor.

Horrified, Mike knew there was nothing he could do.

"Let's get going," Palmer said. "Lead the way, old man." He yanked Steve to his feet and kept a grip on his arm. The gun nestled against Steve's ribs.

When they got outside, Palmer stopped and looked around. It quickly became evident to Mike that he could not remember how he had got there from the road. "Which way?" Palmer murmured. Mike looked at Steve and saw that although the words had not reached his friend, Steve knew that Palmer was lost.

"The road is this way," Steve said, his voice too loud and clumsy. Palmer allowed him to take a few steps along the track, then turned left where the track divided. Mike was sure they should have turned right to reach the road, but he trusted that Steve knew what he was doing. The odds were against them, bound as they were, but with Steve's superior knowledge of the area, perhaps they had a chance after all.

"What are you thinking, Buddy-boy?" Mike thought as he shot a worried glance over to his partner, who struggled to maintain stability as he walked. For Steve to purposely lead the men in the wrong direction meant that Palmer would not reconnect with any of his cohorts and that would buy the detectives valuable time.

_But at some point, Palmer is going to figure out this little ruse. And when he does, I'm not sure ho much more you can take._ Mike envisioned the potentially brutal scene of the uniformed driver beating or shooting his partner in rage. He yanked at the handcuffs behind his own back in response.

* * *

The men continued walking for several minutes. Mike flinched as he saw Palmer jab the barrel of the pistol into his friend's side, prodding him to move forward at a quicker pace. From his vantage point, the older cop saw Steve tugging at the ropes that bound his wrists behind his back and noticed his right fist clinched tightly.

"Come on, piglet, what's wrong with you?" Palmer yelled into Steve's ear as his patience was wearing thin. "We've gone a half mile down this path, and where's the damn road? You didn't steer me wrong, did you, kid? Because if you did…"

Steve couldn't hear the threat, but he could feel Palmer's warm breath on his neck. He focused his efforts on continuing to pull at the ropes and strategically positioning a small razor blade that Doug had secretly slipped into his hand at the cabin.

"I asked you a question," Palmer hissed as he continued to force Steve to walk faster. "What's wrong with you?"

"He can't hear you," Mike interjected.

"What do you mean?"

"You'll have to ask your pal, Henderson. He's the one who did this to him with the back end of a rifle. He can hear nothing but a loud ringing and he's clearly dizzy."

As if on cue, Steve staggered and nearly fell to his knees. Palmer grabbed him by the arm and allowed him to regain his balance.

"I'm getting sick. Can we take a break?" Keller asked, knowing he was risking his captor's ire. He looked around and found a large tree that fit well into the plan he was quickly forming. Next to the tree, he saw part of a fallen branch nearly two feet long.

"I can waste you right now, pig." Palmer threatened.

"Oh, I don't know," Mike coolly interrupted. "You haven't found your buddies yet. For all we know, the authorities have them. You may be the only one left. I think the last you thing you want is to take the heat for wasting a cop." Mike's calmness completely belied the nerves he felt on the inside.

Shaking Palmer's grip, Steve walked clumsily to the tree a few feet up the path and turned around. He lowered himself gingerly until he was seated at the base and his back rested against the trunk. Mike's eyes darted between the two men fearing the worst.

Palmer responded with frustration and anger. "We don't have time for this, cop. If you can't get up, I'm going to put a bullet between your eyes."

"Let me help him," Mike suggested. "Cuff my wrists to the front and I can guide him."

Unbeknownst to Mike, Steve was making progress with the razor and broke through a layer of the rope. He felt the pressure loosen around his wrists but knew he needed to keep the image that he was still captive.

"Look," Mike said as he began to negotiate. "You don't want a dead cop on your hands. Let me help him up and we'll be on our way."

Palmer glared at Stone as he responded. "You get him up and moving. If he falters one more time or if you try anything tricky, it will be my pleasure to blow his brains out right in front of you." Mike swallowed hard at the threat. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Mike answered. "The keys are in my pocket."

Palmer pulled the keys out of Mike's coat and spun the man around roughly to unlock the cuffs.

With one quick tug, Steve was free from the cut ties. With all his strength, he quickly grabbed the span of branch and sped to tackle Palmer. When he saw Mike's hands were free, Steve pounced and knocked Palmer over on his side. His gun went flying.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Straddling their former captor, Steve rolled him on his back. Instead of using the branch as a club to beat the man, he grabbed the wood with both hands and slammed it into Palmer's throat. Pressing hard, Steve simply responded, "My turn."

Palmer tried to push the piece of wood away from his neck. Steve's response was a quick knee in the gut which let out what remaining air the man had in his lungs.

Mike grabbed the gun from the path and pointed it at Palmer's head. "All right, hold it."

Drained from the activity, Steve fought to keep his focus on Palmer and didn't quite realize that his partner was standing over him with the gun. Understanding that, Mike tapped him on the shoulder.

"I'm here, Buddy boy. Good work." It was hard for Mike to get used to the idea that Steve wasn't hearing what he said. He only hoped this was temporary.

Steve glare was still fixed on the prone man, but knew they had to do something to restrain him. "Let's cuff him to a tree – one that's off the path. If he's lucky, I'll remember where we are."

He slowly pulled himself off of Palmer, but kept hold of the branch as a weapon. "Come on," Mike commanded Palmer as Steve led him to a tree and sat him down.

"Face it and put your arms around it," Steve ordered. Taking the cuffs from Mike's hand, he secured his prisoner.

Much to Mike's surprise, Steve took his tie off and then told him to hand over his handkerchief. "I may not be able to hear much, but I'm afraid he might start calling out his buddies. We're still in danger and so are Doug and the girls." Steve grabbed the handkerchief and stuffed the criminal's mouth and secured the makeshift gag with his tie.

After Mike was convinced that Palmer was restrained, but able to breathe, he grabbed on to Steve's arm. "Come on. One down and three to go." With renewed energy and a .38 in his hand, Mike bounded the opposite direction back to the cabin and the road.

Steve let out a breath before feeling an uncomfortable churning in his stomach. Another wave of dizziness struck coupled with nausea. Committed to following Mike, he tried to shake it off and staggered several feet behind.

* * *

His patience wearing thin and his agitation escalating, Henderson made a hand signal to his accomplices who jogged up to meet him. "Where the hell is Palmer?" He demanded gruffly.

"How the heck should I know? I say we drop him first chance we get. I don't trust crooked cops!" Chad Lawson shot back.

"Maybe we should just split. Forget about them cops. What d'ya say, Buster?"

All eyes turned to the youngest of the three companions. The youth shoved his hands in his pockets and meekly stood avoiding the gaze of his two companions.

Henderson stepped up to the youngster's face and scoffed, "Forget about them? Let me tell you something, little brother: Those cops out there will call for back up the first chance they get and they will hunt us down! Do you want to go back to prison?" He paused and waited for the young man to respond. When no answer was forthcoming, he grabbed the young man's collar and shook him. "Well, do you, Corey?"

"N…no, but…." Corey Henderson stammered.

"Hey, there's a cabin over there," Lawson interjected.

Henderson released the youth then looked in the direction that Lawson was pointing. "Let's go see if we can find us some pigs."

Doug sat hunched over a cup of herbal tea as Wanda gently dabbed the back of his head with a damp wash cloth. He winced but sat still as he tried to calm his nerves.

"I'll go get some more wood for the fire. It'll be dark soon," Leah called out as she opened the front door. No sooner did she step a foot outside her home, a rough hand grabbed her by the upper arm.

"Well, well, well…what have we here?" drawled the muscular man who proceeded to force his way into the cabin, all the while maintaining his hold on the brunette's slender arm.

Doug was on his feet fast, the pain in the back of his head momentarily forgotten as the sight of more strangers invading his home filled him with trepidation. He heard Wanda gasp and step backward.

"Darlin' why don't you fix us all a drink? How about some coffee?" Henderson leered at Wanda who stood with her back to the stove.

"We…we don't have coffee," Wanda replied in a small voice.

"No coffee? How about a beer then?" Henderson barked, bringing his rifle up closer to his body while tightening his grip in the girl's arm with his other hand.

Wanda's eyes widened and tears began to fill them as she stood wordlessly still.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Henderson jeered while Lawson laughed and advanced on the young woman.

"We don't want any more trouble," Doug spoke up at last. "Please, we don't own much but you're welcome to anything in this house. Just leave us be."

"Shut up," Henderson ordered in a quiet but deadly serious tone. He pointed his rifle at the bespectacled man to emphasize his point.

Lawson began caressing the blonde woman's shoulders, as he looked her over with lust in his eyes.

Corey swallowed hard as he watched the scene play out in front of him. He knew he had done some bad things in his life but he had never harmed a woman and he wasn't about to start now. "Come on, leave them alone."

Sensing his younger brother's discomfort and seeing that Lawson was about to waste more time, Henderson glared at his accomplice. "Leave her. We don't have time for this."

"Oh come on, man. Just give me five minutes…" Lawson whined then wrapped an arm around the girl's waist eliciting a frightened cry from her throat.

"I said, that's enough!" Henderson snapped.

"All right, all right! I'm going to get some air," Lawson replied in frustration before running his hands through his hair then stomping out of the cabin.

"Keep a look out!" Henderson called out to Lawson's retreating back.

The door slammed shut and Corey breathed a small sigh of relief.

"What's your name?" Henderson demanded of the girl he had been holding on to.

"Leah," she answered in a small voice.

"Get over there with your friend and fix us something to drink." Henderson released the girl and waved her off then turned his attention to the graying man in front of him. "You got a name?"

"Doug Nelson," the hippie answered.

"Sit down, Doug. I have a couple of questions to ask you and I get this feeling that you know the answers to them. Cooperate and we'll be out of your tree house sooner rather than later, you dig?"

Doug nodded and sat down while the intruder took a seat opposite him at the table. His eyes followed the weapon in the man's hand as he rested it on the wooden surface.

* * *

Chad Lawson's keen ears picked up on a sound nearby. Slowly and carefully he ventured further away from the cabin to find the source of the noise. It didn't take him long to spot one of the cops they had been hunting. Noticing the cop was armed, he cursed silently then hid behind a tree. He waited for the older man to pass him and prepared to ambush the cop when a thought occurred to him. Where was his partner? Convinced that the older cop had not seen him, Lawson peered around the trunk of the tree and found the answer to his question heading his way and not looking in the best shape. Easy, he thought. _Take him out first, use him as a human shield then take out the old man._ With his plan figured out in his mind, he waited for the opportune moment.


	7. Chapter 6

_**Author's Note: **Just wanted to say another big thank you to all our readers and to those who were able to leave us reviews, we very much appreciate your feedback :-)_

* * *

_**Chapter 6**_

Although he knew that he was lagging further and further behind his partner, Steve didn't want to worry Mike and refused to call out to him. He pushed himself onward and tried desperately to keep up. It was only a matter of time before Mike would turn around to check on him but he hoped by then he would have made up some ground. His head ached terribly and he could feel fresh blood oozing down the side of his face. Just as he brought his hand up to wipe it away, something slammed him into the ground. All the air left his body and the world seemed to be spinning out of control. Pain erupted throughout his torso and black spots danced in front of his eyes. Before he could comprehend what had happened, a fist slugged him hard in the mouth and he sank into oblivion.

Mike thought he should check on Steve. He turned around just in time to see Chad Lawson attack his partner. He didn't call out to Keller. He knew Steve wouldn't hear him, and he didn't want to attract the other two men since he wasn't sure where they were.

_Hang on Buddy Boy. Help is on the way_.

Chad wasn't paying attention, as he was wondering what to do with Steve until he could get Buster and Corey. He thought the older cop was gone and didn't know what had just happened to his partner. As he was thinking about this he felt a gun in the back of his neck.

Freezing where he knelt, Lawson slowly let go of Steve and the unconscious detective dropped back to the ground. Mike was deeply worried about his partner, but he had to immobilise Lawson before he did anything else. "Put your hands up," Mike ordered. "Move real slow and easy."

Slowly, the other man did as he was told. Mike kept the gun resting on the back of Lawson's neck and glanced quickly around to see what he could use to tie the thug up. Initially, nothing sprang to mind, but as his glance brushed across the ground, he spotted Lawson's track shoes with their thick laces. "Very slowly and very carefully, pull out your shoe laces," Mike ordered.

"What?" Lawson looked at Mike like the detective had grown another head.

"Do it!" Mike growled. He was tired and scared and worried and he didn't need any backtalk from this punk. "Where are the others?"

"What others?" Lawson asked, doing as he was told.

"Don't get smart with me," Mike snapped. "I know they're round here somewhere. Now, where are they?"

Before Lawson could say anything, Steve groaned and moved his head slightly. Mike's immediate impulse was to crouch by his partner's side and check him out, but he willed himself not to lose his focus on their prisoner. He didn't know how much more Steve could endure. He wasn't sure how much more his own nerves could take.

As he regained consciousness, Steve's head was one big mass of pain. He raised a shaky hand to gingerly touch his lip and winced as he felt the blood oozing from the split. For a moment, he couldn't remember where he was or why he hurt so much, but after a bit, his memory returned and he forced his eyes open, panic speeding his heart rate. "Mike!"

"Easy, easy, Buddy Boy," Mike soothed, even knowing that Steve could not hear him. He moved slightly to attract Steve's attention and Steve looked at him, calming down as he saw that Mike had the criminal covered.

Relieved that Steve was awake, but worried about him all the same, Mike pondered his options. He had initially thought to get Steve to hold the gun on Lawson while he tied him up, but when he saw how shaky Steve was, he changed his mind. Lawson had pulled the laces from his shoes and Mike handed them over to Steve. For a moment, his partner looked blank, then realisation dawned. "You want me to tie him up?" he asked, hoping that he wasn't speaking too loudly.

"That's right," Mike agreed, nodding. He gestured to Lawson. "Turn around and put your hands behind your back," he ordered and kept the criminal covered as Steve laboriously got to his feet and bound the man's hands with one of the laces.

As soon as that was done, Mike put the gun away. He urged Lawson over to a tree and used the other lace to tie him to the tree. There was no way to gag him and Mike did not want to knock him out with his gun – it was all too easy to inadvertently kill someone doing that. "Where are the others?" Mike demanded.

Cowed by how easily he had been overpowered, Lawson meekly answered, "In a cabin."

"If I hear one word from you, you're going to wish you'd never been born," Mike hissed and Lawson actually flinched.

Ignoring the prisoner, Mike hurried over to where Steve was still sitting on the ground. He gently tilted the younger man's head up and looked at the damage Lawson had inflicted. Steve's lips were split and bleeding, but his teeth didn't appear to be damaged. There was going to be some swelling, too. Mike winced. "That bad, huh?" Steve mumbled.

Patting his partner's shoulder in sympathy, Mike knew they would have to go back to the cabin and help Doug and the girls. "Can you stand?" he asked slowly, making sure Steve was watching his lips.

"Yeah." Steve hoped he wasn't lying. The last thing he wanted to do was stand up. His head ached and he felt really dizzy and sick. The last of his energy reserves were long gone, but Mike could not go for help alone. It was too big a risk.

"The others are at the cabin," Mike told his partner slowly. "We need to go there. Can you do it?"

Alarmed, as Mike was, Steve knew he had no choice but to go. They couldn't leave Doug and the girls to the less-than-tender mercies of the two remaining thugs. From somewhere, he would find the energy and determination to help Mike out. He swallowed down the nausea and put out a hand to get help to rise. "Let's go," he replied.


	8. Chapter 7

**_Chapter 7_**

Mike waited for Steve to get his bearings before proceeding to the cabin. He looked down the path and estimated they had about a quarter of a mile to go before they reached Doug and the girls. Doubting that Steve could make it that far, he grabbed onto the younger man's arm in an attempt to keep him steady as they walked.

The senior detective made more mental calculations. They had recovered one gun from Palmer. Mike figured that weapon was the one that had been issued to the corrupt driver. Still yet to be recovered were his and Steve's police revolvers and two rifles. He assumed those pieces were now with the Henderson brothers, underscoring the fact that they were well armed and dangerous.

After several minutes of slowly walking in silence, Mike squeezed Steve's arm to get his attention. Stopping in the middle of the path, Steve glanced over to his partner and waited for the question.

"Can you hear me?" Mike asked. He wanted to know exactly what he was dealing with and whether Steve's condition was changing.

"What?" Steve responded.

"Can. You. Hear. Me?" This time Mike made a point to exaggerate his wording so at least Steve could read his lips.

"No, just buzzing and ringing. If I weren't so tired, it would drive me crazy." Steve answered with a half smirk that gave Mike some comfort. With a swollen jaw, split lips, pale complexion and a busted eardrum, at least there remained a spark of humor.

At that moment, Mike heard rustling through the leaves and brush. He quickly looked around and placed his hand on his pistol. Steve looked over to where Mike was focusing, and the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. Mike let go of his arm and walked over to the side where suddenly a small squirrel jumped in front of him and then scurried across the path and up a tree.

Letting out his breath, Mike turned to face his partner who by now had a full smirk on his face. "That squirrel is on the lam," the injured man uttered.

"Don't even start," Mike said paying no heed as to whether Steve could understand or not.

"Perhaps Moose is nearby," Steve continued in a slight Boris Badenov accent.

Mike couldn't help showing a slight grin as he latched onto Steve's arm. The pair again began their way to the cabin. Despite it being a false alarm, Mike's senses were on full alert, particularly his hearing as he kept his ears attuned to the forest noises.

Several yards ahead, Mike heard additional noises and tensed his grip on Steve's arm. Both men stopped in their tracks. Mike pulled his gun as a rustling sound got louder. A rabbit chased by one of the stray dogs came within view. Mike lowered his weapon and shook his head.

Steve, focused on the area where the dog and rabbit came from, saw a glint of metal – perhaps that of a rifle being aimed in their direction. Only a second or two later, he saw the full rifle barrel and one of the two remaining convicts taking aim.

With no time to think, he shoved Mike out of the way when a shot rang out.

Young Corey Henderson saw both detectives hit the ground. After Buster told him to go out and look for their accomplices and the cops, Corey knew that he needed to put his best effort forward for his brother. Now, he had shot one of the cops and he had a chance to carry out his brother's wishes in full. He had the chance to kill both detectives.

The younger one isn't moving and the older one is searching for his weapon, he thought to himself. He ran toward the pair toting the rifle, thinking he would finish the job at point blank range.

Mike felt his partner shove him to the side and then instantaneously heard the rifle shot as he tumbled to the ground. He dropped the gun in the fall, but couldn't see where it landed. Not finding the weapon in front him, he twisted around to see Steve lying on his back with his eyes closed. Swallowing hard, he turned to aide his partner, when suddenly Steve sprang into an upright sitting position and pointed the missing weapon at Corey Henderson. A single shot rang out and Henderson crumpled to the ground.

Panting from exertion which had followed an incredible adrenalin rush, Steve handed the pistol back to Mike who stared at him questioningly. Anticipating what Mike wanted to know, Steve replied, "I saw the gun fall, so I grabbed it."

Mike was stunned at the turn of events. "Okay?"

"Sure. Yeah, fine," Steve replied breathlessly. "I think it's the kid," a tinge of sadness was in his voice.

Realizing that there was at least a rifle to be confiscated, Mike got up and made his way over to the younger brother. With his gun drawn, Mike carefully approached the convict. He was regaining consciousness as he lay where he was shot down just clear of the path. "Don't move," Mike called out. He grabbed the rifle and moved it away from Corey's reach.

After a quick pat-down and finding another pistol, he announced, "You'll live." Mike assessed the injuries to the young man's leg. "You're lucky my partner's a little disoriented. He's usually a better shot than this."

The younger brother winced in pain. "Help me. It hurts so bad!"

"You can help yourself by telling us where your older brother is. Is he still at the cabin?"

Not wanting to answer, but quickly tiring, Corey did not answer.

"I said, is he still at the cabin?"

The young con nodded his head.

"Okay, you're not going anywhere. We'll send someone back for you."

Mike returned to Steve. "That boy's okay. It's just a leg wound. His brother is still at the cabin," he said as he pointed up the hill. "He probably heard the shots, so he may be on his way down here. We'll need to be careful." Mike made a shooting hand gesture and then pointed to his ear. Steve understood.

Mike reached down and helped Steve stand. Steve wobbled as he stood and his knees nearly buckled. "Can. You. Make. It?" Mike asked.

Steve nearly said, `no,' but then didn't want to leave his partner facing Buster Henderson alone. He nodded his head. "Give me a gun," he responded.

Steve holstered the weapon as Mike grabbed onto his right arm. As they resumed their hike back to the cabin, Steve reached his free arm around his back and felt warm blood trickling from a new injury to his side. It's only a crease, he thought to himself. It has to be.


	9. Chapter 8

_**Author's Note: Many thanks goes to "honu59" for beta reading this chapter.**_

_**Cable Car Chronicles**_

* * *

_**Chapter 8**_

By the time they were close enough to the cabin to hear Buster Henderson issuing orders faintly in the background, Steve could feel his heartbeat racing. He vaguely wondered if it was due to the adrenaline still pumping through his veins from their latest confrontation with the youngest Henderson or if it had something to do with the throbbing wound in his side. With Mike's help, he had managed to keep pace and somehow stay on his feet but each step he took almost robbed him of breath. Once the initial shock had worn off, the pain had intensified rapidly. His body responded to the fiery agony that stabbed through his lower back, right below his ribs, and he started to fear that the wound was not as superficial as he kept telling himself. _It's just a crease. Just ignore it! Keep going. _

Through his concentration to move onward and block out the pain, Steve failed to notice Mike's attempts to draw his attention until his partner grabbed him by the upper arms and turned him around to face him. The sudden movement caused a powerful wave of nausea to hit the young detective, who jerked away from his mentor's grip. Doubled over, Steve threw up the scant remains in his stomach before his knees gave out and he dropped onto all fours, dry retching. The pain threatened to overtake him with each heave but he fought to stay conscious with all the strength and determination he still possessed.

Mike lowered himself to the ground and knelt beside his partner. He placed a hand on Steve's back, concern etched deeply on his face. He opened his mouth to speak words of comfort, but closed it again when he realized it would be of no use since Steve would not hear them. When at last the young inspector's heaving had subsided, he wrapped an arm around his waist and helped him to his feet. It was then that Mike felt something warm oozing between his fingers. He turned his head back and looked down as he took his hand away and raised it palm side up. The Lieutenant swallowed hard when to his horror, he saw blood coating his fingers and soaking the back of Steve's shirt. Mike tugged on Steve's sleeve, drawing his attention. When their eyes met, he saw through Steve's steely resolve, the pain and fear the younger man was desperately trying to hide from him.

"Mike..." Steve croaked.

"You've been shot," Mike mouthed silently, bringing his bloody hand around to show Steve.

"Just a crease," Steve replied breathlessly. He turned away and started to walk toward the back of the cabin when a hand pulled him back behind a tree. He looked up and saw Mike slowly shaking his head, his lips forming the word "no".

"We're almost there. Don't bench me now, _Michael_," Steve asserted between clenched teeth. He knew he had struck a chord. The last time he had called his partner "Michael" was over a year ago when Mike had almost gotten himself killed by going after a friend's killer on his own.

You've never called me that except that time when…

Mike stared at his partner for what seemed to be a considerably long interval of time as he weighed his options. If he left Steve, he wouldn't be able to keep an eye on him if his condition deteriorated. And with a busted ear drum, Steve wouldn't hear him calling out if things went wrong. On the other hand, if he dragged the wounded young man with him to confront Henderson and rescue Doug and the girls, Steve would be an easy target and given his current state, Mike feared that his Buddy Boy might not make it out alive if things got rough. Drawing a deep breath, he came to a decision and prayed it was the right one for all their sakes.

"All right," Mike mouthed slowly. The last thing he wanted was for Steve to get any more involved in this than he had to be, but Mike could not do it alone. Henderson was a dangerous man; he was going to prison for murder. Mike would be taking a risk tackling him alone, but he would be taking an equally big risk in letting his injured partner help him out. Still, he would prefer Steve to be under his eye than sitting out here alone. "But first…"

Pulling off his coat, Mike slipped off his sweater and quickly unbuttoned his shirt. Steve simply watched him, wondering what Mike was up to. Mike gave a grim smile as he quickly dressed in the sweater and coat again then wadded up the shirt so that he could use it as a pressure bandage against Steve's wound. He used the sleeves to tie the shirt into place. It wasn't as tight as he would like, but it was better than nothing.

Steve's face was paler than ever as Mike finished up. He gave Steve several moments to recover slightly; moments that he wasn't sure they could spare. Then he tapped the younger man's arm. "Steve, you can come with me," Mike told him, speaking slowly so that Steve could follow what was being said. "But you stay back, okay?"

"I can help," Steve insisted, though he still felt nauseous and weak.

"Yes, by staying out of the way unless I need you," Mike agreed.

"Mike…"

"Steve, this is important!" Mike shook Steve's arm slightly. "Stay back unless I need you." He fixed Steve with his fiercest glare. It masqueraded as anger when, in reality, it was fear. Fear for his partner's life. "I mean it."

"All right," Steve capitulated. "I stay back unless you need me." He wiped a shaking hand over his brow and swallowed heavily. He longed for a drink of water. "I'm ready," he announced.

Ready was clearly the last thing Steve was, but Mike didn't argue. He helped his friend to his feet and steadied the younger man after Steve swayed for a moment. A few deep breaths helped Steve feel less dizzy and he nodded his thanks to Mike. The older man nodded back and they resumed their trek towards the cabin.

A noise alerted Mike to Buster Henderson's presence nearby. He pulled Steve to a stop and they took cover behind a couple of trees. Steve blinked sweat out of his eyes and kept the gun he held pointed towards the ground. Until Henderson was in sight, he didn't want to take any risks.

Unnoticed by the younger detective, Mike glided silently to his left, his eyes glued to the spot where he thought Henderson would appear. He could still hear the man's footsteps crunching on the undergrowth, but they seemed to have changed direction. Mike paused and then something cold, round and hard came to rest against his neck.

"Well, well, well…what have we here?" Henderson purred. "A piggy! You're dead, old man."

There was an ominous click.


	10. Chapter 9

_**Author's Note: Once again, a BIG thank you goes to all our readers!**_

_**Special thanks goes to "honu59" for beta reading.  
**_

_**Cable Car Chronicles**_

* * *

_**Chapter 9**_

"Drop your weapon," Henderson commanded.

Mike knew he was in a vulnerable position. With the gun pointed at the side of his neck, any slight movement on the hair trigger could mean the end of his life. He let his weapon drop to the ground.

"Where's the pretty boy, piggy?" Buster Henderson sneered as he jammed the pistol harder into the side of Mike's neck.

The detective didn't answer.

"I said, where's the pretty boy?" With no further answer, Henderson grabbed Mike's hair from the back and yanked hard. "Or do you want me to blow your head off now and then see if I can find him on my own?"

"He was shot," Mike answered truthfully. "Back a ways."

"I heard gunfire. Who got him? Was it my little brother?"

"The kid? Yeah, it was him," Mike conceded.

Henderson felt a jolt of pride until he realized that his brother was nowhere near. "Where is my brother, anyway?"

Mike didn't answer.

"I said, where is my brother?" Henderson's anger was beginning to boil.

"He was hit, too," Mike added. "He needs help." The detective wondered how that would play with the older Henderson.

"Where?"

"Back a few hundred yards. It's bad. If you want to help your brother, we need to get to a phone and get an ambulance. He can't walk."

"You bastard, you did this! The only place you're going is six feet under, old man. You and that partner of yours were nothing but trouble from the start. I'm going to pull the plug on you now, man and if your pig-buddy isn't dead already, he'll be next. Kneel down."

Mike knew what Henderson was thinking: execution style. The detective remained standing.

"If you don't kneel down, I'll waste those two broads and their old man in the cabin there."

"You're going to waste them anyway," Mike challenged. "Don't try to fool me."

Henderson had had enough and with all the strength he could muster, he slugged Mike in the stomach. As Mike bent over from the blow, Henderson clubbed him on the back of the head to get him down on his knees. Overachieving, Mike was on all fours when Henderson reached down, grabbed his arm and slung him back into a kneeling position. "I've had enough of you, old man. Now you're going to die."

Steve stood quietly behind a tree only a few yards from where Mike and Henderson were having their altercation. The buzzing and ringing in his ears precluded him from hearing any conversation between the pair, but he could tell that Henderson now had the upper hand.

Sweating and dizzy, Steve leaned against the tree as he saw his partner slung back into a kneeling position. He knew that Mike only had a few seconds before Henderson would shoot him.

With his pistol in his right hand, Steve aimed at Henderson's back. Proper police procedure called for the younger detective to identify himself and allow Henderson the opportunity to drop his weapon. Following that protocol would likely end Mike's life and perhaps his own as well. He needed the element of surprise. If he could distract the convict so that Mike could get out of the way, Steve thought, then perhaps he could outdraw Henderson. At the very least, he'd give Mike time to get out of the 'execution' position.

Steve looked directly in front of himself and saw tree bark and branches all over the floor of the woods. Perhaps he could lob a short but heavy branch over Henderson's head and make it sound like someone was on the other side.

_Sound like_, Steve thought to himself. He smirked at the irony. _I can't hear a thing, but I'm going to trick Henderson by making it sound like someone is there._

Steve lowered himself carefully to pick an appropriately sized branch then pitched the projectile as far as he could over the heads of Mike and Henderson. He nearly lost his balance in the process.

"What the…?" Henderson cried out as he heard snapping wood to his right after Steve had hoisted the wooden diversion overhead. Henderson quickly whipped around to see who or what made that sound. Seeing the convict move the way he did was all Steve needed.

"Mike, hit it!" Steve yelled as he raised his gun and pointed at Henderson. Mike fell prone to the ground giving his partner a clear target.

Realizing he'd been had, Henderson quickly swung back around, raised his gun and fired. At the same moment, Steve got as clear a view of the convict as possible then discharged his weapon.

Suddenly, everything fell quiet.


	11. Chapter 10

_**Author's Note: Thank you fellow readers for keeping up with all the action here :-) Sit tight and hold on to anything you can...this isn't the end of the journey...**_

_**(Our thanks goes to "honu59" for beta reading)**_

_**Cable Car Chronicles**_

* * *

_**Chapter 10**_

Through the stillness, Mike slowly raised himself up on his hands and knees. His eyes quickly scanned the area for the whereabouts of his partner. He let out an audible sigh of relief when he saw Steve leaning weakly against a tree, pointing his gun at the suspect who was lying face down on the ground between them. Though his head ached from the blow he took, Mike forced himself to rise to his feet. "Are you all right, Steve?" he called out breathlessly.

Even though he couldn't hear what his partner had said, Steve knew what Mike had asked him just by reading the man's lips and the expression he wore. "I'm okay," he responded croakily.

Mike hurried over to where Henderson lay and quickly picked up the revolver, which he recognized as his own, from beside the prone criminal. He stowed the weapon in the waist band of his pants then dropped to one knee and checked Henderson for a pulse. A groan escaped from the downed man's throat. Mike pressed the muzzle of his gun into Henderson's back. "Just hold it right there! You're under arrest," Mike panted as he frisked the hardened criminal for concealed weapons.

* * *

Doug Nelson signalled for Wanda and Leah to stay hidden under the table and keep silent as he crept toward the fireplace and reluctantly took possession of the rifle that the gunman had left behind. He knew it wasn't loaded as the man had removed the cartridges before he walked out but he figured it could come in handy to use as a club if need be. Slowly and carefully, he opened the front door and stepped outside.

* * *

Using one hand, Mike confiscated Steve's revolver from Henderson's pocket as well as two rifle cartridges and bullets from his jeans and a hunting knife from his boot. He also checked the wound in the man's upper arm and the gash on his temple, which Mike surmised he probably sustained after hitting his head on a rock when he hit the ground. Finding no life-threatening injuries, he now faced a dilemma. He needed to restrain his prisoner, and without any handcuffs readily available, he was going to need Doug Nelson's help. The sound of someone coughing broke through Mike's thoughts. His immediate reaction was to see if Steve was all right. To his horror, he looked up just in time to see his young partner collapse. "Steve!" Mike cried out frantically before the crunch of twigs breaking reached his ears. He turned toward the source of the noise and saw Doug Nelson approaching with a rifle in his hand. "Doug, I need your help. Do you have some rope or anything I could use to tie up this bastard?"

Doug nodded. "I'll get you some. What happened to your partner?"

"He was shot. Please hurry and get me some rope," Mike almost pleaded with the hippie. He wanted to run up to Steve but he couldn't leave Henderson free and run the risk of him trying to escape or over power him.

Nelson quickly did as he was told and returned as fast as he could. Following Mike's instructions, he tied Henderson's hands behind his back while the cop kept the gun pointed at the prisoner.

"Watch him!" Mike ordered Nelson firmly.

Henderson let out a scornful laugh that was cut short from the pain lancing up his arm. "What's the matter, old man? Afraid I'd finish the job my brother started on pretty boy?"

Mike ignored the jibe and hurried over to where his partner lay. He leaned down and took Steve's arm, draping it over his neck while he slowly lifted him off the ground. The young man was semi-conscious and unable to support his own weight. Holding on to the back of Steve's shirt with one hand, Mike used his free hand to pick up the rifle they had taken from Corey Henderson. "Come on, Buddy Boy, don't you give up on me now! Don't you dare, you hear?" Mike pleaded in a thick voice filled with emotion as he half carried his partner toward the cabin. He motioned for Nelson to wait while he took Steve inside. Wanda and Leah both gasped and rushed over to help Mike take Steve into the bedroom. Mike abandoned the rifle he held, leaning it against the wall by the bedroom door. Then with the girls' assistance, he lay Steve face down on the bed. "I need some clean towels and hot water. Hurry!" Mike instructed Leah while Wanda sat on the edge of the mattress and tried to calm Steve, who was becoming distressed. "Steve, I'll be right back. Just hang in there." Mike ran out of the cabin. After retrieving the gun that Steve had dropped by the tree, he gestured for Nelson to help him drag the protesting Henderson to his feet.

"What is this, police brutality?" Henderson spat at Mike.

"Need I remind you, you're under arrest?" Mike shot back as he marched the prisoner into the cabin.

"You haven't read me my rights, cop!" Henderson barked.

With his teeth clenched tightly, Mike forced Henderson to take a seat in a chair at the dining table then he took a deep breath and hastily read him his rights.

Henderson winced when his struggles earned him more pain shooting up and down his arm. "You know, old man, if my brother dies out there…"

"Now you listen to me! Your kid brother is not going to die because I won't let him have the easy way out. He shot my partner and you had better pray that he makes it or I'll make sure that your brother is locked away for the rest of his life!" Turning to face Nelson, Mike said "Watch him. If he so much as moves a finger, tell me!"

Nelson nodded and stood watching Henderson like a hawk as the detective headed to the bedroom to be with his partner.

* * *

Mike thanked Wanda and Leah, who stepped aside as he leaned over to check Steve's wound. Carefully, he untied the make-shift bandage from around his partner's waist and lifted his blood soaked shirt. Mike swallowed hard as Steve's pain-filled moans were like sharp knives slicing through him. "Easy, easy. Just lie still." Mike took one of the towels from the pile on the bedside table and placed it over the wound. The thought of leaving Steve to treat Corey Henderson's leg injury then call for help was an agonizing prospect but he knew it had to be done. He couldn't leave Corey to bleed to death out there and his partner needed urgent medical attention.


	12. Chapter 11

_**Author's Note: **Sorry for keeping y'all dangling...hope you'll enjoy this next installment :-)_

_Special thanks goes to "honu59" for her beta reading talents.**  
**_

* * *

_**Chapter 11**_

Mike had to work quickly. Before leaving, he had to do what he could for his partner. While Doug was keeping an eye on Henderson, he knew that the convict, despite being shot, had nothing left to lose and could very well make it tough for the pacifist hippie.

Mike pressed the towel over Steve's wound and then gently lifted the material to see how much blood he was currently losing. There was a fair amount on the cloth, but at this point it was not profuse. What bothered Mike more was the sweat and dirt that had accumulated around the injury. Steve's fall into the dirt and twigs certainly hadn't helped matters.

Desperately, he looked back at Wanda and Leah. "Girls, do you have something I can use to clean him up a little? Water, at least?"

Leah nodded. "We have some in our canteens. When we go to town, we always fill them either at the local gas station or sometimes we go to the stream that's about a half mile down the road. It's clear, beautiful water."

Mike winced with that information: water from used canteens with fish debris, dirt and who knows what else.

"I don't want water from the stream, but if you have tap water from a clean canteen, I'll take it." As an afterthought, Mike called out "How about a little soap?"

Steve moaned and tried to shift his position in the bed. There was nothing that would make him comfortable. Leah put a calming hand on his back as he quieted down.

"It must be frightening," Leah commented. "You said he can't hear."

"His hearing was perfect this morning until that monster slammed the butt of a rifle into the side of his head. See the blood trickling down there? His jaw is swollen, too." While Mike was disgusted with all that Steve had endured, he marvelled at his partner's stamina. "He's badly injured, but he still managed to take down Henderson and his brother." A note of pride slipped into his voice.

"How long have you worked together?"

Mike thought for a moment. "Around three years."

"And you're very close," Leah added.

"Yes, we're very close," Mike agreed.

He looked around to see Wanda coming in with the canteen, a new bar of soap and fresh washcloths.

"Thank you, Wanda," Mike said gratefully.

The blonde woman nodded and found a seat across from the bed.

Mike turned his attention back to Steve. "Buddy boy, look at the fine mess you've gotten yourself into," he commented as he soaked the wash cloth. With a few quick rubs of soap, he did his best to clean the bullet would without causing the young man any more discomfort than was necessary.

Mike glanced at Steve's face as he let out a groan. "Sorry, but this has to be done. There's too much dirt and grass in there."

After doing all that he could to clean Steve's injuries to his side and face, Mike decided the next best thing would be to put pressure on the bullet wound. He put another clean towel on the area in question and then quickly removed his belt. This last action was much to the surprise of Leah and Wanda.

Mike knew he had a nervous audience and sought to relieve the anxiety with a little humor. "I gave you the shirt off my back before, Buddy boy. Now I'm going to belt you."

Pressing down on the mattress to form a quick gap between it and his partner's midsection, Mike quickly pulled the belt through and cinched it tightly around Steve's waist and the towel. The action made Steve cry out, but Mike had to make sure the towel stayed securely in place with enough pressure to stop further bleeding. Mike understood the pain that he was inflicting on Steve. If there was a way he could share that burden, he would.

"I want you girls to watch him. If the towel stays in place like this, he'll be okay." At least that was what Mike prayed for. "Do you have a blanket?"

Wanda nodded again, rose and pulled a folded light blanket from the small cabin closet.

"Good girl. Let's put this over him," Mike said as he quickly unfolded the blanket and placed it over his partner. "Now you ladies keep an eye on him."

Mike started to walk out the door to join Doug Nelson and Buster Henderson.

"Mike…" a weakened voice called out.

The feebleness in his partner's voice caught him off guard. Mike quickly turned around and returned to his bedside. He kneeled down to face his partner.

"I'm GETTING HELP," Mike mouthed deliberately at Steve. He was unsure whether the young man had the ability to understand, so he said it again while pointing to the door. "GETTING HELP."

"Henderson…"

"I'm TAKING HIM WITH ME."

"No…" Steve protested.

Mike shook his head. "It will be OK."

"No…" Steve countered again, with a weaker voice.

Mike shook his head at his partner.

"Take Doug," he whispered. "I'll be okay with the girls."

Mike couldn't help but let out a small laugh. "I'll bet you will," he mouthed as he looked up to Wanda and Leah.

Steve had a point, Mike thought, even though the young man didn't know the extent of his plan_. If I go tend to Henderson's brother before I get help, I'll be outnumbered. I need to make sure that boy's leg isn't bleeding badly first._

"Okay, you win, Steve." Mike nodded back at his partner and looked over to Wanda and Leah. "Will you two be all right alone with him here?"

"Where are the others?" Leah asked.

"One's been shot; I left him over the hill. We're going to go check on him. The other two are tied up further down the path," Mike answered.

"I suppose we'll be all right," Wanda suggested. "Just don't be too long."

"Believe me, if I can make this quick, I will." Mike rose as he gave Steve one final gentle pat on the back. "Hang in there, Buddy boy."


	13. Chapter 12

_**Author's Note: ** Thank you, "honu59" for editing another chapter for us :-) Having an extra pair of eyes outside of those involved in writing this story has been a real help to us. _

_And to ALL our readers: THANK YOU for your support. We are so happy to hear you are enjoying our work._

_To those in the US - We hope you are having a lovely Labor Day long weekend!_

_Cable Car Chronicles_

* * *

_**Chapter 12**_

Leaving through the front of the cabin, Mike reached over to Henderson and jerked him forward by the arm. "Come on, we're going to go check on your brother." He then looked at Doug. "I'd appreciate it if you'd come with me."

Doug nodded, but then approached Mike and whispered "I won't carry a gun, man."

"No, and I wouldn't give you one," Mike added. "Just curious…ever used one before?"

"I was in Korea. I saw enough violence there, man. It changed me for good."

Mike nodded his understanding. He had seen too much violence in his lifetime as well, not only in San Francisco, but in Japan during his years in the service.

"We're going to check on Henderson's brother and then take the scum ball over there back to the transport van. I can call for back-up from there."

Once he understood what was going to happen, Doug agreed.

* * *

It took ten minutes for the trio to make it back to Corey Henderson. The younger brother was very close to where Mike had left him and was pressing on his injured leg. Corey looked over to the men approaching and was visibly disappointed to see that his brother was now back in custody.

"Hey, bro," Buster Henderson called out.

"We're going back?" The idea that their mission had failed suddenly hit Corey.

Buster responded only with a laugh. Mike glanced over to the convict with annoyance.

"You did quite a job on pretty boy. He's in bad shape back at that cabin," Henderson gleefully updated his brother.

"You shut-up or I'll shut you up for good," Mike threatened.

Henderson laughed again. "This isn't over yet, pig."

Mike grabbed the convict by the collar and threw him down to the ground. Henderson gasped in surprise and pain, reaching for his injured arm.

"You two stay here," Mike directed Doug and their prisoner as he walked over to the young man with the leg wound. Mike had brought Steve's tie and two of the washcloths provided by Wanda and he quickly wrapped the younger brother's injury. After securing the makeshift bandage, Mike assessed that Corey could not walk back to the transport van with his brother, but he could stay by himself until help arrived.

"All right, Corey, you don't move," Mike ordered as he stood up and walked back to the other men. "We'll head back to the van. I'll be able to radio for help."

The trio began their trek back past the cabin and to the van. "Don't you worry, bro!" Henderson called back. Corey heard his brother's maniacal laugh fade away as the distance between them grew.

Watching the men make their way down the path, Chad Lawson, newly freed from his shoestring restraints, waited patiently from behind the brush.

Lawson smirked at the ease of his escape. He never thought that his love of action movies would ever come in handy until he had been tied to that tree. With nothing else to do, his mind wandered through every scene he could remember where the story's hero had been trying to free himself from similar restraints. Tentatively rubbing the shoe laces that were holding him in place across the tree's bark, he soon noticed that it was actually working. So as much as it was pulling at his wrists and grating across his skin, he kept at it until he could finally move away from the inanimate object. After doing the same with the piece of string binding his wrists, he knotted the laces back together as best as he could then relaced and tied his shoes.

While back at the cabin and just barely hidden from view, Chad had seen the older cop and the hippie conversing, far enough from the cuffed older Henderson brother so that the man wouldn't hear. But Chad had heard and understood every word. He had decided to follow them, out of sight of course, to see if, once they had reached Corey, the three criminals combined might have a chance to overpower them. Clearly, that wasn't going to work now.

So standing there, carefully massaging his still somewhat aching wrists, Lawson weighed his options.

The first option, obviously, was attacking the two men in front of him, not only to get them out of the way once and for all but also to take possession of their guns. But Lawson realized that taking them on alone would most likely end up deadly for him. While he had overheard the longhaired man clearly state that he wouldn't touch a gun, who knew how much more it would take to drive him over the edge and break his vow? Lawson sure as hell didn't want to find out. So even though he had an ally in Henderson plus the element of surprise in his favor, a direct attack could also be the fastest way to the morgue, or at least back to prison.

Option two was freeing Buster's little brother, but he would be of no help due to his bullet wound. And honestly, Chad wasn't sure that the kid would be very useful anyway even if he hadn't been shot.

Lawson had no idea what happened to the fourth in their midst, who was option three, but he had to react fast; reinforcements would soon be called in and before long, the woods would be swarming with cops. So that didn't leave any time to search for Palmer. Besides, who knew what state the man would be in if he did manage to find him?

That left option four, the other half of the detective duo, who was now vulnerable since his constant protector was currently wandering around the woods - and conveniently away from the cabin. Lawson didn't know exactly what shape the young cop was in, but he didn't care. With just the injuries the detective had received so far, he wouldn't stand a chance in a fight. And wasn't the guy practically deaf at the moment? _It's almost like taking candy from a baby_, he thought with a smirk.

As for the two hippie girls who'd also most likely still be there, they had proven to be as compliant as you can get, so they wouldn't be a problem either. _And with Henderson out of the picture, I can finally have my way with them, _he thought. He definitely had plenty of time while he was waiting for the senior cop to return to the cabin, even though he knew the man would do as soon as he could.

Once he had taken the three occupants of the cabin hostage, he was pretty certain he stood a decent chance in this game. The older detective had proven that he'd practically do anything for his partner's well-being. Now Lawson decided to test just how far he would go to protect him.

_In this case, second time's the charm_, he thought.

So watching the three men leave, he waited a moment longer to ensure that his presence remained undetected. "Time for some revenge, pigs," he whispered before he left the safety of the bushes. Then he returned to the cabin, taking care to let them have enough of a lead so he didn't accidentally run into them along the path.


	14. Chapter 13

_**Author's Note: **Wishing everyone a splendid weekend. Thank you for reading :-) _

_Cable Car Chronicles  
_

* * *

_**Chapter 13**_

_(*Edited by "honu59")_

Steve could not remember a time when he had felt as bad as he felt at the moment. Part of it, he knew, was that the adrenaline that had kept him going during the last few hours had worn off as he lay there on the bed. His head was spinning and his side throbbed with every beat of his heart. He wasn't happy that Mike had gone off without him, even if Doug was with him. If anything happened – if Henderson tried anything – would Doug react quickly enough to prevent Mike from being hurt? Steve hated to leave his partner's safety in the hands of someone else. How would he ever be able to face Jeannie if harm came to Mike when Steve was not there?

Wanda and Leah were huddled together on the other side of the room. Today had taken a big toll on them and although they were not unaware of Steve's good looks or his need for care, they were having trouble keeping their nerves together. They had come to live in the cabin to escape from this kind of thing. Leah suddenly started to cry and Wanda gathered the crying girl into her arms and started rocking her gently.

Just for a second, Steve closed his eyes and almost instantly fell into a light sleep. His body had taken just about all that it could. As well as physical exhaustion, Steve was mentally exhausted from trying to keep up with what had been happening. He had never dreamed that it would be so disorienting to lose his hearing.

Something – a stirring in the air or an abrupt movement – jarred Steve out of his slumber and he opened his eyes in time to see Lawson charging across the cabin towards the two girls. Wanda's mouth was open and Steve assumed she was screaming, but he couldn't hear a single sound. Leah flinched as Lawson viciously backhanded Wanda, knocking her to the ground.

Enraged, Steve somehow found the strength to sit up. He knew he was no match for the convict, but he couldn't just passively sit by as the man beat up the two girls. "Lawson!" he barked, with no idea of the volume of his own voice.

To his horror, the convict ignored him, slapping Leah hard across the face. She, too, fell to the ground. Satisfied that he had cowed the girls, Lawson turned around and grinned maliciously at Steve. "Your turn, pig," he sniggered, knowing that Steve would get the message, even if he couldn't hear. With great deliberation, he started to walk across the cabin towards the young officer.

It seemed to take them forever to get to the transport. Mike had to admit that, before, he had been relying heavily on Steve's knowledge of the area and now they had gone in so many different directions that Mike wasn't sure if he could retrace his steps. Anxiety gnawed at his gut; he hated to leave Steve alone when his partner was so badly injured, but he had to get help and the transport vehicle had a radio.

When they finally spotted the vehicle, Mike was initially worried that the convicts might have disabled the radio, but to his relief, it was in working order. Locking Henderson in the back, Mike felt that things were finally going their way. He grabbed the mic, and after several attempts, finally got a response from local law enforcement. Mike learned from the responding officer that a search was already underway for them since they were about six hours overdue at their destination.

It took some explaining to make their location clear. Mike wasn't too sure where they actually were. He described the area and the cabin and Doug helped him out, but it was all taking too much time. Mike felt his anxiety grow with every moment that passed. Finally, the sheriff promised to meet him at the cabin with reinforcements. Mike got behind the wheel of the vehicle and started the engine. It was then that he realised how tired he was. It had been an incredibly long day.

"We need to get back to Steve and the girls," he told Doug. "Then I'll get the other men one at a time."

"Okay," Doug agreed doubtfully. He wasn't at all sure that he wanted to be around when the cops arrived. He hadn't left the army legally and the last thing he wanted was to be arrested and thrown into jail for going AWOL. He kept those thoughts to himself for now.

_The best form of defence was attack._ Steve had no idea where he had heard or read that, but it was the only chance he had. As Lawson swaggered nearer, Steve tensed his muscles and tried to look as cowed as he could. As Lawson came closer, Steve lunged from the bed and tackled the larger man around the knees. They both crashed to the ground. Steve let out a cry of pain as his injuries were jolted.

Taken by surprise, Lawson recovered quickly, none the less. He grabbed Steve's hair and yanked the cop's head upward. Steve threw an ineffectual punch and Lawson laughed aloud. This pig was going to be easy pickings. He leaped to his feet, taking Steve along with him since he still had a tight fist full of Steve's hair. Chad punched Steve hard in the stomach and drew back his fist for a knock-out blow to the jaw.

The blow never landed. A blinding pain shot through Lawson's skull as something heavy crashed against his head. He was completely unaware of letting go of Steve and falling to the floor.

In an agony that he had no means of describing, Steve looked up from where he had fallen beside Lawson and through a red haze, saw Wanda standing over the convict with a cast iron frying pan in her hand. Steve tried to talk, to thank her for saving his life, but the world was expanding and contracting in a most disconcerting manner. Steve slumped to the floor, unconscious.


	15. Epilogue

_* Special Author's Note to follow at the end of this chapter. Many thanks to "honu59" for her edits to this chapter._

* * *

_**Epilogue **_

Mike slowly lumbered down the hallway of San Francisco General Hospital on his way back to the intensive care unit. Stroking the razor stubble on his face, he could not recall a time when he had been this exhausted, yet he was compelled to stay until he knew in his heart that his partner would fully recover.

Mike remembered the emergency room doctor's numbing words after they had examined his unresponsive partner. "We're taking him into surgery immediately. The good news is that the path of the bullet in his side does not seem all that destructive. But I have to warn you that he's in a very weakened state. The blood loss, infection and concussion, not to mention several other minor injuries, put him at high risk."

The ER had been a circus that late afternoon, Mike recalled. In addition to Steve, the doctors were treating the Henderson brothers for their gunshot wounds and Lawson for his hairline skull fracture and concussion. All would recover, and each man had sufficient armed police guarding them to guarantee no further attempts at escape.

Mike had also insisted that Wanda and Leah be examined after he saw the bruising on their faces from Lawson's brutality. The image of Wanda and Leah sitting on the dirt floor of the cabin crying in each other arms after he, Doug and the local sheriff had entered, would remain with him for years to come. He had found Wanda, eyes red rimmed, simply gazing into the distance while holding the sobbing Leah. Next to her was the cast iron frying pan and then only a few feet away was Lawson, his head resting in a pool of his own blood.

Mike swallowed hard as he recalled what he had seen next: his partner lying sprawled on his side and frighteningly lifeless. His eyes instantly focused on Steve's midsection, wondering if the young man was even breathing. He rushed over and placed two gentle fingers on side of his neck, praying that he'd find a pulse. It was there, but it was weak. He ran a hand over his partner and noticed how warm he felt. There would be no attempt at reviving him. Mike knew Steve's situation was grim.

Now taking a seat next to the ICU bed, Mike studied his partner to find, or if need be, will any sign of improvement. Far too pale when they first brought him in, Steve had later become flush and warm. The doctor had immediately ordered another IV with stronger antibiotics and for the moment, his color looked better. Mike noticed the young man's hand had moved from lying by his side to resting limply on his stomach. He moved closer and took a quick look at Keller's face. While Steve's eyelids were shut, Mike could see movement as if his partner were coming out of a dream. The faint groan that came next was music to Mike's ears.

"Come on, Buddy boy, that's it," he whispered.

"Is he coming around?" the shift nurse asked as she entered the area.

"I hope so. I thought I heard something," Mike responded as he watched the nurse once again take Steve's vital signs.

"Mr. Keller, can you hear me?" she asked. But for the moment there was no answer.

Still, the question resonated with Mike. He wondered silently if Steve would get his hearing back. The doctor had minimized the impact of the ruptured eardrum compared to the bullet wound and concussion. Still, Mike worried that any permanent hearing loss would not only impact Steve's professional career, but would change his life forever.

The nurse finished her work and started to leave. "His vitals are stronger, so I feel like he's coming out of it. I'll be back to check him again in another twenty minutes."

After a few more minutes, Mike heard another moan. This time it was louder and he could see Steve begin to move. He placed his hand on Steve's forearm and saw the young man open his eyes.

Steve looked around in utter confusion and then found his partner's smiling face. Saying nothing, he tried to sit up but was limited by his own lack of strength as well as Mike's hand resting firmly against his chest.

"'Bout time you woke up," Mike teased.

"Boat tide, what?" Steve croaked weakly.

"What?" That was not what Mike expected Steve to say.

"Nevermind," the young man said feebly. Still confused, Steve looked around again, now grasping that he was in the hospital. As he became more aware of his surroundings, he became more aware of the pain. "Aw man, everything hurts," he finally said as he winced.

"I'm not surprised. You were a mess when we brought you in," Mike commented almost too happily. The exhaustion he felt earlier was supplanted by relief.

A sharp pain in his jaw reverberated throughout his head and neck. He placed his hand up to his ear. "Man, what happened? I feel like someone hit me with a two by four."

"Close enough. Should I get the nurse?" Mike asked.

"Maybe in a minute. But right now, I'm just trying to get my bearings. What were we doing?" Steve asked himself. He looked back in his memory and then realized the answer. "Prisoners. We were escorting the prisoners," Steve tried to recall.

"Yes, only it didn't work out so well. The prisoners were in cahoots with the transport van driver," Mike began to explain.

"Ink who?" Steve asked, seemingly dazed. "What?"

"What?" Mike asked as he furrowed his brow. Perhaps Steve wasn't all right.

"You said `they were ink who'. That doesn't make sense."

"I said they were `in cahoots'," Mike repeated. He was as confused as Steve until it dawned on him. "Say, wait a minute. You can hear me then?"

"You sound a little muffled, but yeah, I can hear you fine," Steve said.

Mikes smile became broader. "Thank goodness. As I was saying, they were in cahoots with the driver."

"Officer Palmer," Steve interrupted. "I remember now."

"Former Officer Palmer," Mike corrected. "The sheriff and his boys went back and found him still cuffed around the tree. Turns out he was a cousin of the Hendersons. Well, I guess he'll get to enjoy a family reunion in Quentin for quite some time."

The young man thought back through the events of that day. He was able to resolve most of the questions, but then he began to panic. "The girls? Are they all right?"

"They are fine. The hippie, Doug, took off with them after we had the doctors here look them over. I actually don't think we'll be seeing them anytime soon."

"Why? The girls were cute. I thought if Doug wanted to share," Steve began.

"Well, you're recovering quickly, I see," Mike kidded. "Actually, Doug is AWOL," he added seriously.

"A what?"

"AWOL. You know, Absent Without Leave, from the army," Mike explained as he made an effort to enunciate more clearly. "It's been awhile – it goes back to Korea."

Steve raised his eyebrows on that one while Mike explained further. "We pulled his record. You see, apparently, he served in Germany during the War, but then somehow pulled another tour in Korea years later. After a few months, he'd earned a pass to Tokyo. He went to Tokyo all right, but never went back to his unit. He's been on the lam ever since. So he and the girls are long gone."

"AWOL, huh? That's too bad," Steve added. "You're going to have to turn him in, aren't you?" After all that Doug and the girls went through and did for Steve, the young detective did not like the idea that they would have to suffer any more than they already had.

"Turn him in?" Mike bellowed and then remembered where he was and took his volume down. "Buddy boy, I've got more paperwork waiting for me than you can shake a stick at thanks to the little excursion Henderson and his minions decided to take. Not to mention documenting all of your injuries. Do you know that I have to practically fill out a new form for each one of your maladies?"

Steve stared at his mentor without expression.

Mike began to count on the fingers of his right hand. "After all, you were shot, you had a concussion, you split your lip, you busted an eardrum, and you've got two busted ribs. Oh look, I need my other hand," Mike waved as he continued counting on his left hand. "You had abdominal bruising and you cracked your jaw. I'm going to have writer's cramp when this is all over. And then, and only then after I finish all of those reports, will I have the time to call army brass and give an update on Doug's whereabouts. By the time I get around to it, he'll probably be halfway across the country."

Steve grinned weakly and understood what his partner was doing. While Mike was a faithful veteran, he viewed Doug as a victim of circumstance and would not leverage the situation for a military matter that had happened twenty years earlier.

Mike could see the fatigue his partner's grin and reached down and patted Steve on the arm. He felt warm still, but Mike knew that the antibiotics would take some time to kick in. The fatigue and fever served as a reminder that while Steve would be all right, recovery would take time.

"You need your rest, Buddy boy. I'm going to head home."

"You look like you could use some rest, too. And do something about that five o'clock shadow, will ya? I've never seen it look like that. I know it's been a long day, but…" Steve began.

"No Buddy boy, today has just begun."

"Oh. All this happened yesterday, huh?" he asked sheepishly.

"The day before, actually."

Steve went silent as he tried to figure out just how long he had been unconscious. "I didn't realize. You've been here the whole time, haven't you?"

"Now why would I do something like that? I mean, sure I've been around. After all, I needed to know whether I would have to break in a new partner," Mike kidded. "But now that I know you're going to be okay, I figure that you'll be back on the job in a few days. And come to think of it, I just might wait for you to do the paperwork and report to the army brass on Doug Nelson."

"What?" Although Steve had heard every word, he wasn't as alert as he normally was. If he had been, he would have quickly figured out that Mike was teasing.

"I think you heard me."

"Well, yeah, but Mike, I don't think I'll be up for anything anytime soon," Steve admitted.

"I'm sorry, Steve. Did you say something?" Mike feigned.

"What?" Steve asked.

"What? I can't hear you," Mike said as he tapped his finger near his own right ear.

Steve's mouth dropped as he slowly began to realize that Mike was joking around. "I'm a sick man, you know."

"I still can't hear you," Mike said as he made a quick grab for Steve's blanket-covered foot, shook it and then quickly made his escape out the door. _Life will return to normal soon enough_, Mike thought to himself. However, next time he's asked to escort dangerous prisoners to San Quentin, he'll definitely bring his own driver.

END

_**Author's Note: Hello there fellow readers,**_

_** This is your friendly cable car operator seeking your undivided attention...**_

_**We've reached our destination, marking the end of our journey - the first of many, we hope to take part in. **_

_**We'd like to take this opportunity to thank EACH and EVERY one of our readers out there for checking out our very first round robin formatted story. It's been a crazy and fun ride for those of us involved but like all good things, it has reached its end and we sincerely hope that you had as much fun reading this story as we did writing it.  
**_

_**A very special thank you goes to "jodm" and "honu59" for their combined and speedy beta reading work. You both deserve a big bunch of flowers each.**_

_**Wishing everyone a fantastic weekend ahead,**_

_**Until next time...  
**_

_**Cable Car Chronicles**_


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